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Amaranthine Dreams

Amaranthine Dreams

Vorschau lesen

Amaranthine Dreams

Länge:
45 Seiten
37 Minuten
Herausgeber:
Freigegeben:
Dec 28, 2013
ISBN:
9781940246055
Format:
Buch

Beschreibung

The dreams are tearing him apart. Unless Hieronymus can get to Kyr-Darst while avoiding the Huntress he may never get the answers he needs to survive. Once there he discovers his problems have only begun.

A short story set in the fantasy world of Bulinnärn.

Herausgeber:
Freigegeben:
Dec 28, 2013
ISBN:
9781940246055
Format:
Buch

Über den Autor

L Frank Turovich (1956- ) was born and raised in Flint, Michigan where he became a rabid reader of science fiction, fantasy, mysteries, comics and everything else not nailed down. He’s spent time in the Marine Corp before breaking into writing via articles in Nibble Mac and Inside BASIC magazines, then graduated to technical writing, training, and managing teams for companies like Zedcor, Metrowerks, Motorola, Freescale Semiconductor, and Nokia, before leaving to pursue his fiction writing ambition. He currently resides in Michigan in a home filled with books, computers, and two cats (Java and Larry).


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Buchvorschau

Amaranthine Dreams - L Frank Turovich

Amaranthine Dreams

Amaranthine Dreams

By

L Frank Turovich

Copyright © 2013 by L Frank Turovich

All Rights Reserved Worldwide

Revised June 2017

Smashwords Edition

Synopsis

The dreams are tearing him apart. Unless Hieronymus can get to Kyr-Darst and get answers he may not survive, or worse. But once there Hieronymus discovers his problems have only begun.

Table of Contents

Amaranthine Dreams

Afterward

Other Stories

Copyright

Amaranthine Dreams

The countryside was beautiful.

Hieronymus followed the trade road for a couple of days when he came upon a side trail, just two wagon tracks leading away to his left. A sign carved with crude letters indicated directions and distances to nearby cities. To the north it pointed toward the lumber and fishing town of Brularn, a place he had visited a few times with his father selling barrels of succulent rill-rill fish. The southern sign listed Duer-lorn, the place where Huntress Ilarhia wished to take him, willing or not.

He shuddered at the memory. The Huntress had triggered the first manifestation of his magical abilities, and he had been running ever since. With the support of his friend Kaevan and the monks of Mrynlinn he had escaped being captured and put to death for having the talent. Now he was free and traveling to Kyr-Darst to learn more about his magical power.

Beneath the weather-beaten boards was a third pointing toward the west, the name Braewickinn scribed there. The sight left a doleful lump in his heart. He so wanted to follow that trail, to once again go to sea and fish alongside his dad, to eat his mothers cooking alongside his brothers and sisters, to see Fulimera’s wide smile, and talk with Kaevan just once more. He wiped moist eyes clear and sniffled.

But Kaevan was dead and the Huntress would never give up her search. The reward offered for his capture was too large to ignore, and the humiliation dealt her meant she would never stop. Heironymus turned his mount and rode away feeling lonely and lost.

That night Hieronymus settled into camp late, using the bright lightness of the twin moons Lystennielle and Lindruuth to guide his way, while their sister Issyr trailed behind. It was a good place to camp, well away from the trade road, hidden by thick trees on a grassy hill his horse munched with enthusiasm. The breeze carried a floral scent he recognized but could not identify.

It bothered him as he ate a cold tasteless meal before covering the fire and bedding down. The sky was clear, the air mild, and stars glittered overhead. Somewhere in the distance an animal howled, a lonely sound that left Hieronymus feeling alone and heartsick in the darkness.

The dreams started as soon as he fell asleep.

His mother made minute adjustments to his tunic. A seamstress with some pride she insisted Hieronymus look his best on this, his wedding day. She fussed at the balking thread as she strove to make everything perfect for this special day. Hieronymus was standing at the vow stone,

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